


The Umbrella of Glass

by Jezabel



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Blackmail, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, No Underage Sex, Platonic Relationship, Public Execution, Romantic Relationship, rated e for violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezabel/pseuds/Jezabel
Summary: In a Kingdom with an absent King and a reigning Court, climbing the social ladder is the goal of most of the nobility. This didn't escape Oswald Cobblepot, already doing his best to get near the Queen of the great city of Gotham. Meanwhile, the wealthiest family of the town is shadowed by a terrible murder, leaving the young heir Bruce Wayne to uncover the truth.





	1. Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> Alright.  
> I wanted to write this for a very long time because well... Victorian AU is all I need in life.  
> But I am a weak emo child and couldn't resist to add vampires.  
> I am very sorry.  
> (not really)  
> As my first Gotham work, this will follow two stories that might cross path more than once. There will be no underage sex.  
> As always, I'd like to thank cobblestyles (AO3) for beta-reading this and following me in this adventure aha

The moon is high, shading a clear light on the city of Gotham, people already sound asleep in their homes. All protected and watched over by a King hiding under a shadow. Don Falcone wasn't reigning this kingdom as any would. Counselor of the Court, he would advise the King, but the rumor was that he was holding a dagger at his throat. Crime running rampant in this city, they had to hide it from the people, hoping they would enjoy a peaceful life, forever and ever. And it seemed as if only Don Falcone was able to maintain it so. Every city he had power over was governed by one of his men. The most known being Fish Mooney. She was loved as much as feared by her people, a gloved hand caressing your cheek before slicing your throat. Many were obeying her, and she knew every single one of them would try and betray her to access her power; yet she was handling them without troubles. She made them kill each other only for her attention, and never would people question it.

Under this shining moon, inside these narrow streets, was running a poor and scared soul.

Oswald Cobblepot was one of the Queen's Court. Messenger and informant. Playing this game they were all trying to win, dethroning her. He was living a bit farther from the heart of the city, enjoying a simple life with his mother. She had some incredible fortune, how did she acquire it, he had no idea, but they had enough to live happy and away from the city's trouble. Yet, Oswald was dreaming big, dreaming of offering his dear mother a life even better than this, the life of King's Mother. He would eliminate his enemies while using fake informations on them, playing dangerously with their lives as if in control of a giant chessboard. And people he couldn't kill with others, he would do it himself. Nothing would make him walk away from the promise of power.

He was close to the Queen and yet she never even once saw his face. Knowing that one day, he would get to her, he was hoping she would never notice a faceless mask. And yet, she did. When one of her contact got silenced, she succeeded in connecting it to him. He did as always, but this time she suspected him and easily uncovered his plans, not without failing to protect his target. He did notice he was followed after a time, and when he went to one of his lairs only to see one of Don Falcone's most famous assassins, he didn't think before he started running.

He knew the man running after him was Victor Zsasz. He was known to play with his victims before their death, bodies left covered in wounds. And he knew the man was already playing with him. Oswald wasn't fast. One day, the Queen, out of fun, injured his right leg. Since then, he had to struggle with it, and didn't run fast enough. Another reason why he learned to kill himself, since he couldn't run away from his enemies, he might as well face them front. But there was no way in Hell he could face the monster that is Victor Zsasz. And the man knew it, and yet looked at him running, not catching up on purpose. That's when he started to lose his breath that he saw the dark shape behind him getting closer. His mind was running over all the words he knew, all the sentences he could say to persuade that man not to kill him.

His thought stopped as he heard steps at the intersection with another narrow street, before he could think, he took all the strength he had left to run to the corner, passing next to two... kids? He was not tall, but they were still a bit smaller than him. One was definitely too fast for him to notice, the other with a black scarf hiding their mouth. Their eyes crossed, theirs, black as a funeral, were filled with determination and almost seemed fearless; there was still a ounce of innocence in them.

He heard the first one run into Zsasz, yelling as they hit, falling on the ground. The one following took something they had in a bag and threw it to the man, blinded by it. He did not stop to watch and used this as a chance to finally get to the main street, jumping into the first carriage he could find, looking behind and relieved to see no one was following. He took off his mask and almost fainted when he felt release from this hunt. He thought he was going to die right here, right then.

Day passed by, Oswald was back to his mother's side and she was all but too happy to have him with her. She always treated him as he never grew up, wondering why he would go to such extends for work when they already had all they needed. But he loved her and was showering her with all the love and the care he had, that's what mattered the most. He would still do what he used to, getting closer to the Queen while using people and plans. The only difficulty being that he couldn't know her next moves this time, but she didn't know who he was, she could only see a new face rising to her court.

The hardest was still to hide the murders to his mother, since every step he took in the damn manor could be heard by her, even if miles away. She would always worry too much for his nocturnal escapades, not even slightly realising the danger that is her boy.

The manor was big enough for the two of them, mostly arranged and decorated by his mother. The walls were of clear stones and the place was large enough for parties, even if his mother wouldn't do a lot of them, too much organisation she would say. The place had at least 7 big bedrooms for the guests and the two of them, each decorated in a special way. Sadly, people weren't too fond of Gertrude's artistic senses, but he couldn't care less, she was so happy every time someone would comment on it, lie or not. And her smile would bring warmth in Oswald's heart only she could give.

One day, as he was writing at his desk, he heard her yell his name, definitely noting the fear in her voice. Swallowing, he took his most trusted umbrella, a hidden blade at the handle, and walked out of his room. After hurrying in the stairs, he got to the main living room. She had opened the french windows to let the summer's wind come in, giving on the large garden. There, a man was standing, menacing her with a sword. He ran to her and hit the sword away with his umbrella.

"I believe I am the one you want to talk to?"

He stopped the man before he could even say anything.

"Mother, Dear, would you go to your room? I believe this gentleman doesn't have enough manners to be around you."

Gertrude was a bit scared to leave her boy with this obviously rude and threatening man, but she obeyed regardless, lifting her pink and green dress as she walked away. He made sure she went to the stairs and got to her room, knowing she wouldn't be able to hear a thing from there, and counting on it. Before the man said anything, he smiled to him.

"I know who you are. I killed your brother last night."

He reveled as the man looked at him in shock and anger, tying up the blond locks of his wig.

"Then I guess I can kill you without the guilt of maybe killing an innocent."

Oswald didn't stop his snicker.

"Idiocy runs in the family it seems."

He took a darker look, his tone deeper.

"As if you could ever kill me."

Before the man could react, the sword was out of his umbrella, and he sliced the leg, making the man fall in a scream, staring at him with confusion, and fear. Oswald put his feet on his throat to stop his yells, a cocky grin on his face.

"You really thought I would accept a duel? You poor, naive, idiot man."

And thus, he started playing with the man, making sure every cut counted, making him regret to ever threaten his mother with a sword. He took his time but delivered the final blow before his mother, who was getting out of her room, got downstairs. He would've spit on him, but refrained before running to his mother, stopping her from seeing the body. She panicked as she saw his white tights covered in blood.

"I am fine, Mother. Please, this is no sight for an angel such as you, stay in your room, I will get help."

"Oh my poor... poor little boy.. That mean man..."

"It is nothing. Please, I will join you soon."

She smiled as she hugged him, and he could hear her heart racing and was getting angry she ended up in such a situation, he will have to be more careful from now on.

As she got back to her room, he went to the only help they had, ordering her to leave and get the police for them. She didn't ask about the blood and asked about his mother before leaving. He didn't trust her but at least she seemed to really care about Gertrude's well-being, which was all he needed.

He spent the following hour by taking care of his mother after changing his clothes, tucking her to bed for the rest of the afternoon, promising to protect her from the police officers, she always had the craziest stories about them. He left her as soon as he heard the door, getting downstairs to greet them. He wasn't surprised to see Jim Gordon's face at the door. The man always seemed to despise the police department's uniforms as he would always wear a simpler version of it. A black tight vest being obviously much easier to wear when you have to run after criminals, it seemed..

"Mr. Cobblepot, I suppose? We came as fast as we could."

Of course, he wouldn't know who he was. They always talked by letters or while he was wearing a mask, when he was the Queen's informant. They shook hands and he gave him the brightest of his smiles, it always felt like he was talking to a friend, even if he didn't see him as such.

"Officer Gordon, a pleasure. Thank you for hurrying, let me guide you."

He walked through the hallways and led them to the living room, the body still there. That's when Oswald noticed the tall man walking by the officer. His body was covered by a long coat, making him guess he was a doctor right away, even though he did not see the point as the victim was dead and he was without injuries. He looked at the officer with confusion, hoping to get answers.

"My uh... colleague.. will examine the body to confirm your story."

Oswald could feel panic starting to creep into his heart.

"That is... very insulting... How could you think that... I mean.. This man threatened my mother!"

The man raised a hand to him, he tried not to think of it as rude.

"Mr. Cobblepot, I understand your feelings, I trust you."

That was something at least.

"But that man's brother was found dead yesterday, we need to make sure it doesn't connect to you so that we leave you alone. Isn't that for the best?"

Oswald crossed his arms on his chest. Now that was a new problem. He nodded.

"Of course. I will be waiting in the boudoir if you need me for anything."

He looked at the man examining the body before leaving, the man keeping a terrifying smile on his face as he was taking notes. In other circumstances, Oswald would've found him charming. He walked in the boudoir and opened the curtains, letting the sunset shine in the red and black room. They never used this but the person giving the manor to his mother insisted to build it. Oswald wasn't a fan of red. He waited there, trying to guess how he will have to get rid of this "doctor", not even understanding how they didn't find him yet if he was there since the beginning. He never really cared about the left bodies of his enemies, thinking the police would just dump them, as they used to.

"I have wings that cannot fly, feathers than can swim. What am I?"

Oswald jumped when he heard the voice next to his ear, taking two steps back, ready to take out the small blade at his hip. He recognized the doctor from earlier, he discarded the black coat, his back straightened by hands tied in his back, that still frightening smile on his face. He noticed the glasses too, it was still rather uncommon.

"Penguins. You remind me of it."

He was way too confused to even realise the insult, blinking and staring, wondering what the man wanted. He raised a gloved hand to him.

"Edward Nygma, very glad to meet you."

He looked at the hand with disgust he did not hide.

"Oh, come on. You won't shake a hand that touched a body, yet you did far worse to it, didn't you?"

Oswald's eyes went back to his, a gasp escaping. His expression did not change, and he just noticed how his dark eyes were easy to get lost in. He shook his hand, still wondering what to do with him, how to kill him. He was pulled near the man, his free hand, ready at his hip again. Stopped by the whisper at his ear.

"Next time you want to take your time, use this."

He felt a small bottle slid from his hand to his, as his fingers closed on it, the man started to leave.

"Wait... wha-"

"Strangulation: Visible. A pain to hide, I don't like extra work."

He blinked again, taking a step further.

"Why?"

"We all have our way to entertain ourselves, Mr. Cobblepot."

He bowed slowly, his smile charming as he winked.

"With the hope to see you again."

He exited the room, leaving Oswald confused and relieved. He looked at the small bottle between his fingers, a yellow liquid dancing in it as he shook it. He could hear them getting ready to leave in the living room, closing behind them. A small smile grew across Oswald's face, this was getting even more interesting.

\- - - - - - - -  - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - -

The moon was full that night and heavy breaths were heard, sharp, fast, running like the legs of their owners. Two young bodies running through the narrow streets of Gotham City, afraid of the yells running behind them, unable to get farther from it.

One of them was Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was the youngest wealthy citizen of the city. His family was part of the nobility, they brought all they could to the city, his father having his own company he used to make life easier for everyone. He also had strong views about the criminals running rampant and the innocent being silenced. These views started to be a problem once he enounced them, despite people warning him of the danger he was asking for. And in one night, Bruce Wayne lost everything.

As they were leaving an Opera, he saw them both die by the hand of a man, apparently hungry for money at first, and yet he left them without taking anything. To make sure he wouldn't be recognized, he also shot the young heir, ignoring his pain as he spent his last breath crawling to try and stop him from escaping.

When he opened his eyes, it was still night, and Alfred, their most trustworthy butler, was sitting next to his bed. He told him he disappeared for 2 days after they discovered the bodies of his parents, Bruce realising it wasn't just a terrible nightmare, and yet he had no memories of what could've happened after it. Alfred insisted they shouldn't look too far into it, as he was glad he was reunited with him at least, not with another dead body.

"No.. Alfred, you don't understand.. I was shot that night..."

As soon as he remembered that, he opened his sleepwear in a hurry, discovering that his chest was empty of any scars, touching it as if it was unreal.

"It... It might have been the shock, Master Bruce. Surely, your imagination."

And for a time, he thought it was. Despite the fact that it was still feeling so real, the warmth of the bullet piercing him, burning him, the pain as he tried to crawl to the man escaping. It got scarier as the morning came.

Alfred was downstairs, getting the breakfast ready, as Bruce got out of bed, feeling better than ever... Even better than before the incident. He had never felt so great before. He opened the curtain and that's when he felt it. Burning on his chest, making him back off as fast as he could. He looked at it, watching as the smoke escaped from his uncovered chest. He hoped he just imagined it, and he brought his arm to the light again. His hand started burning too, his arm protected by the fabric of his clothes. He closed the curtain, staring at his hand in disbelief. Surely, this was some kind of disease, his mind playing tricks on him.

He covered his chest a bit better, getting downstairs to the kitchen, meeting with Alfred. He could avoid the light better there, he sat at the table.

"I was going to bring this to you, Master-"

"It's fine. I... I can eat here."

Alfred did not insist and stayed next to him as he started eating.

Ashes.

It felt as if it filled his mouth, making him spit it out as soon as it touched his tongue, coughing out what he could, before going for a drink of water, feeling as if he was drinking acid. He put down the drink before looking back to a very scared butler.

"Alfred... We may have a problem."

After that day, they tried to see what he could and couldn't do, how to avoid the sun, how to be as less obvious as possible. They took time to realise what he really was, accepting this reality they haven't even thought of yet. Of course, Bruce’s first thoughts were to try and get his parents back to life, only to be stopped by Alfred, telling him that it would only make it worse. That he had to let them go. The boy had trouble accepting that. But he will try his best to avenge them, and find who could've cursed him with this. If it was even a curse.. By doing this, he could go and uncover the truth, not leaving Alfred behind.

As he went back to the crime scene one night, he found someone looking around too, running as soon as they spotted him. Thus, a rather easy chase started, as Bruce had yet to control his powers, he ended running way faster than the person escaping from him. He caught them by the waist and they both fell on the ground.

"What the hell????"

He got up as fast as he could, looking at the young girl he just tackled to the ground, arms raised as if to apologize for what he just did. She was wearing a brown outfit, short pants and vest, the hat hiding her face earlier fell on the ground, showing him pretty blond locks. She stared at him, her eyes almost yellow in the faint lights given by the nearby windows. They kept staring for a time, the girl catching back her breath.

"What were you doing here, rich boy?"

"I could ask you the same!"

That's how he met Selina Kyle, as she was looking around for pearls of his mother's necklace. She said she saw the murder happen but didn't see the man taking off after it, and he wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or not, but something in him wanted to trust her, he saw her as a friend. A friend and a partner as they were always seen together for mischief. When she learned he was a vampire, she did not seem surprised in the least, saying there was far worse in the streets of Gotham. He didn't dare to ask. She helped him feed off criminals she deemed bad enough to deserve death, helping him get in their lairs, taking her chances to steal enough to live. He invited her to live with him and she tried, but never could get used to it, especially with Alfred always on her back.

Despite her problems with Alfred, she discovered they both cared about Bruce enough to put their lives on the line, which made the butler go easy on her, even caring for her too, when he could. Seeing Bruce smiling brightly despite the various events in his life was a luxury he wouldn't ever lose. Even if the reason for it was Selina Kyle. As they were often seen together, the rumor went fast, labelling them as the cutest couple of the nobility, which didn't sit well with Selina. But she had to admit it was a good way to avoid any trouble. Of course, who could be suspicious of the two adorable kids. So they played with it, and enjoyed it most of the time. But there was nothing other than platonic affection behind it, and they were both fine with it.

They got near another narrow street and Selina was thankful Bruce was forcing himself to stay behind her, as he didn't know most of the streets as she does. As he looked behind, he saw the man finally lost them. They were breaking into one of the most known blackmailer of the city, knowing he was sick and if Bruce bit him, no one would account it for anything other than a bleeding gone wrong. But once he was done, after hiding the bite mark with a bit of his own blood, healing the wound, the door opened, slamming loudly as a man started yelling at them. Selina, with her pockets filled with jewels, took his hand and they were off by the nearest window.

He was ready to warn her they were finally away when his eyes crossed path with someone else, apparently running in the other direction. It was icy blue, scared a bit, and yet relieved of some sort? He didn't take time to look at him when he heard the shock of Selina running into someone. As soon as she reached the floor, he grabbed the bag filled with sand they had ready just in case, throwing it into the man's face, ignoring who he was after. With a bit of his extra strength, he made Selina rise to her feet and she led him to an apartment. They ran through the stairs until they reached the roof. She had to stop to take her breath back and he did the same to realise what just happened, laughing as he took away the scarf from his mouth, the blood still on his lips and chin. She groaned.

"Can't you eat properly?"

She walked to him and started wiping his face with a tissue, looking at him with a cocky smirk, wearing it so well. He laughed a bit and made sure she didn't have any injuries, but she seemed ok, yet a voice froze them both.

"Aw. If that isn't the cutest."

He turned around as soon as he could, an arm ready to protect her before she hit it away, clearly not in need of his protection, even though he had to remind himself that. The man they ran into earlier was standing right there, looking at them. Bruce wondered how they couldn't have heard him.

"I would find that adorable.. if you didn't just make me miss my target."

He clapped.

"So. Who's going to pay for it?"

Bruce was ready to walk as soon as the question was asked, he didn't mind, it's not like he could die that easily anyway, but before he took a step, Selina ran to the man, pushing him from the roof and they heard the loud hit on the ground in complete silence. Bruce had to take time to realise.

"What have you done?!"

"I protected us!!"

Selina knew she just did something bad, yet she couldn't understand why she had to be scold for it.

"We could've talked! He could've taken me!"

"And discover you’re a freaking monster?! And linking all we did to you?! Are you stupid?"

He frowned at what she said.

"I'm willing to take resp-"

"YOU, maybe, but I'm not going to watch as people burn you alive!!"

They argued for long, until the moon started to set slowly, a sign that Bruce had to hurry home.

"I don't see why it's a problem to you! You killed more than me!"

That shot went right to his heart, and he knows how much a shot hurts. He looked silently as she put her hat back, glaring at him before leaving without any more words, leaving him alone with his thoughts; after deciding it was time to leave.


	2. Lust For Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald keeps climbing the social ladder as he is now helped by his new friend while Bruce discovers a new enemy and.. someone else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of, I would like to apologize for taking so long to post these. Turns out my job is getting harder, and what was supposed to be holidays spent writing are just.. not holidays at all (i love this) (save me) (i beg of you)  
> Anyway, very sorry again..  
> As always I would like to thank cobblestyles for her beta-reading and support.  
> I would also love to thank all of you who left kudos and read the first chapter, left a comment, it always helps to keep going.  
> Please, enjoy the blood bath that is this chapter.

Months had passed since Oswald met with Doctor Nygma. Thanks to his help, and his various presents, Oswald could climb the social ladder faster than ever, and even had fun while doing so. Every time Nygma would surprise him with another gift, he would wonder what the man had to win with this, making probably the police run everywhere on the lookout for a crazy scientist... Which was exactly what he was. Oswald would surprise himself to worry about him and then scold himself for doing so. He shouldn't care who gets taken on his social ascension, it was a war where every soldier's life was a loss he could take, but one of his most trusted general would still hurt some of his pride. Thus, he would make sure nothing happens to the man, making sure he wouldn't be suspected.

He even got to turn Fish's plans against herself, warning Don Falcone about her doings, making him suspicious of her, mistrustful even. She then closed herself from the people and her court, giving relief to some, fear to others, as Oswald was now the one controlling the shadows she couldn't hold anymore. But yet, he had to fight some trying to get to this place they were all hoping to get. He was still the only one climbing it without anyone suspecting anything, sometimes it even looked like the police was on his side. He did consider Officer Gordon as a friend, so he could say it was pretty much the case. They argued when the man discovered he had some hands in the shadows of Gotham, yet, unable to prove the murders, he could only trust him.

He was invited to a ball in one of the biggest palace of the city, owned by Don Falcone himself, offering a celebration for the Autumn's arrival. For the occasion, he decided to follow his mother's advice and chose to go with "something else than black for once". Well, not completely. He was wearing a wheat shirt tucked into a tight black vest covered with burnt umber embroidery, with some golden thread bringing out the brown. Pants matching the shirt and laced sleeves coming out of the vest, white tights joining black shoes. As Gertrude insisted, he put a golden feathered brooch to his chest, letting her style his hair one last time before he left for the carriage outside. She would've joined him but she was expecting a visit later in the night from one of her old friend, so he did not insist.

He couldn't believe his own eyes when he arrived at the place, people already getting in and named every time they reached the door. Everyone was wearing seasonal colors, shoes clapping on the stoned stairs leading to the place, white columns holding it. His name was announced as he stepped in, amazed by the lights, the people and the laughs. The amber walls were brightened by the huge chandeliers floating above the ball room. The sounds of shoes against the pink marble resonating as much as voices. Voices. Like the one calling him right now.

A man he knew from the Court, who used to be always next to the Queen, was waving at him, gesturing he should get closer. He resisted the want to roll his eyes and put on his best smile.

"Mr. Gilzean, what a pleasure."

"Oh come on, Penguin, you know you can call me Butch!"

The hit on his back was less painful than the nickname.

"... Butch."

The man never knew he was the informant of the Queen, but when people start to get higher in the Court, they have to know about Butch. He knows everyone and seems to like them, until his Queen orders him to kill them, of course. He was half listening to them talking as the real reason for everyone's presence here was announced.

"Heir of the Wayne's Enterprise, Count Bruce Wayne."

People kept talking as to not get the pressure too high on the boy but all eyes were definitely on him. He was wearing all black, like the rumor said, he wouldn't try any other color since the departure of his parents, a reminder of what happened and that he wouldn't sleep on it as most would. Oswald has wished to talk to him for so long, he was definitely someone to have on your side, and how hard would it be to get a kid in his pocket, really? He let people invading his space, talking to him, waiting for the right time, feigning to listen to Butch's nonsense. As soon as he had the chance, he excused himself to join the boy.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wayne?"

The boy turned around, a welcoming smile on his face, clearly a fake one, he could tell. But what stopped him, or what stopped them, was their eyes. His, black as a funeral, Oswald's, icy blue. They stayed silent for a moment before he finally found back his voice.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you! My name's Oswald Cobblepot."

He had to hide the questions that were bubbling inside him. He couldn't be mistaken, those were the eyes he crossed path with that night, months ago. Why was Bruce Wayne running away in an alley in the middle of the night? Why was he so skilled when they got stopped by Zsasz? What were they running from? And with whom? But clearly, he would think it's rude to ask, and embarrassing if he came to ask the same about him.

"Are you enjoying the ball?"

Now all the things he planned to ask him were flying away, clearly, he was no harmless kid.

"Yes! A charming event. I was invited by someone, yet I cannot find them. I hope you are enjoying it too, Mr. Cobblepot."

Clearly, this was a nightmare, but he'll do his best to avoid saying that.

"A delight! Really. I hope you find who you're looking for soon enough. I will no longer bother you."

Tonight won't be the night he will have Bruce Wayne at his side. But he'll have to make sure to be more ready next time. As he left the boy, thinking of leaving already, he was stopped by a body standing on his path, unmoving. Raising his head, ready to scold whoever could be that rude, he recognized the smile.

"Good evening, feathered friend."

Nygma said that as he lightly touched the brooch against his chest. He had to smile back, delighted to meet his new friend again. They walked a bit farther from the crowd, Edward leaning against a column and Oswald standing in front of him, making sure they were out of earshot.

"I appreciate all the presents you brought me.. They were very useful."

He laughed lightly, giving him a glass of wine, both toasting and taking a sip.

"It is only fair when I see I've been protected in return."

He answered, almost making Oswald blush, he should've hired a better man for this. But at least he was taking it well.

"I must say.. I do not yet understand why you do this for me, my friend?"

"I would make Men get on their knees, die for me, yet they just aspire to get to me; What Am I?"

Oswald laughed.

"Admiration?"

The silent smile was the answer to it and Oswald was still confused. This man was just doing this out of admiration? Out of spite? No will behind it, no power, no goal.. He would call him stupid, and yet he couldn't stop his cheeks from reddening at the thought. They kept talking, mostly about murders and Oswald's ascension, inspiring to Nygma for some reason he had yet to grasp, not buying that "admiration" riddle. The orchestra started a tune and the man straightened up, surprising him.

"My friend.."

He presented his hand.

"Would you dance with me?"

A bit taken aback by this sudden invitation, the first he ever got, he had to think before answering, making the man wonder if this was considered rude to ask. He put down his glass before taking too long.

"Lead the way."

He put his hand in his, surprised by the firm grip. They walked to the hall and they started dancing slowly. Following Nygma's steps, he realised he was mindful of his leg, which made his heart react, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He was surprised at how good of a dancer Nygma was, always reacting appropriately to any moves, he just had to follow. He learned to dance a long time ago thanks to his mother, even if it was his very first time doing so in public.

The night went by and the rain started pouring outside, the church bell resonating, signaling the very last hour of the event, everyone hurrying to their carriage. Bruce Wayne was nowhere to be seen anymore, probably leaving early as he usually does. He was looking at the rain falling under the pale moonlight, that night was such a relaxing time, he wished it wouldn't end that fast. He turned his gaze to Nygma next to him, wishing he felt the same. The man spoke first.

"I should head home. Carriages can't access the street giving to my apartment, I wouldn't want to get home covered in water."

"A man of your rank living in a small apartment?"

"I'm not that high in the nobility. Don Falcone just knows how to thank his policemen."

Oswald didn't think twice.

"Would you like to come live at my place? At least until the rain is no longer disturbing us."

Nygma's surprised face was extremely pleasing in a way, followed by his wide smile.

"It would be my pleasure."

It wasn't late when they got to his place and Gertrude ran to the door, first worried for her son before getting surprised with the new guest. Oswald introduced him and it took just a kiss on her hand to charm her completely.

"Oswald never brought guests before! What is your favorite color, dear?"

"My..?"

He looked at Oswald, a bit confused, his friend apparently waiting for his answer too.

"... Green?"

"Wonderful! My little Cobblepot, would you be so kind to get the room ready?"

He smiled and nodded, getting a kiss on his cheek before leaving his friend with his mother, glad to see he wasn't too freaked out, as most would be once in front of her. He went to the green room and took away what would seem.. a bit too flashy. Mr. Nygma surely didn't need any pastel pearls above his head while he sleeps. He took care of the room quite fast, making sure it was ready, before putting a penguin origami on the nightstand, a welcoming gift. He nearly destroyed the house making it, with all the patience he had drawn out of him, making him wish his friend will appreciate the gesture.

He went back downstairs to see them both happily talking about... he had no idea, but seeing the smile his mother was wearing was all he needed. He joined them with some tea, glasses and a bottle of wine for his friend and him. After the clock rang midnight he insisted to get his mother to bed, as she was already half-asleep while listening to Nygma, protesting as he did so but not resisting when he took her hand. He joined his friend back on the sofa, feeling a bit better to be just the two of them.

They talked all night, about Oswald's goals, about murders, about his mother, even his childhood. He couldn't remember much as the bottle was getting empty, quickly replaced by another, and another. He saw the dawning light shining over the garden, making him realise.

"Oh.. My... I am so sorry. It looks like it's morning already.. I did not think.."

The hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"No worries, my friend. But perhaps we should leave for bed."

They both got up, struggling to walk, staggering; making them laugh all the more. As they got to his friend's room, he stopped to wish him good night.

"Again.. Sorry to have kept you awake this long.."

"There is nothing to worry about. I had a great time.. And a good number of bottles too.."

He laughed, Oswald feeling his hand tightening on his shoulder.

"... I should go.. I wouldn't want alcohol to control me.. Do something bad.."

"And what would that be?"

The question was innocent, denuded of any sins. He felt the hand slide against his, now opened, shirt; his friend’s breath caressing his lips.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

A laugh before he left for his room and Oswald could only laugh back, completely unaware of what just happened, getting to his room and crushing in his bed, falling asleep just as he did so.

Days passed, the rain stopped, yet Nygma stayed at their house, happy to have a warm place to go back to when his job was finished. He took off his coat one night, seeing dinner was already made on the table, and he walked to Oswald, surprising him as he said behind him:

"Saw one of  your doings today, remarkable work, as always."

It took some time for Oswald to get his heart to beat at a normal pace again, not yet used to Nygma's sneaking. He turned around and smiled back at him.

"Only one? There's probably 4 you have yet to see..."

He laughed and left for the living room, joining his mother at the dining table. He made sure to avoid wine for a time, after the night they had. He couldn't remember all of it, but red creeped on his cheek every time he felt the hand against his chest again, the breath sliding on his lips. He was brought back from his thoughts when Victoria, their help, brought him a message he missed during the day.

"What is it my dear Oswald?"

He read it and folded fast enough for his mother not to see, putting it back in his pocket.

"Business. I've been invited to meet.. Someone."

A quick look at his friend and they both knew what it meant. Oswald was still rising and his meeting tomorrow will only result with a new body for Nygma to find, maybe he will even give him a new toy to play with this time.

The carriage's door slammed behind him, waiting for him in front of the palace. Oswald was wearing his favorite black vest and coat, taking off his hat as he walked into the house. The butler welcoming him being already quite impressive. He used to see the Count he was meeting today always followed by an old man, making him wonder why he was welcomed by a man three times taller than him. He could even give Butch some troubles, he was sure of it. He guided him to a living room, without a word before leaving him there.. Waiting. Something was wrong, he could tell, but not point it out.

He turned around when he heard steps, the doors opening to two very elegant people he had never met before. The man standing straight in a dark red vest, black hair combed, eyes and smile welcoming, holding his posture with a black and silver cane. The woman with him was wearing a black matching vest, long hair tied in a high ponytail, she was threatening just with her walk. He straightened up.

"I-I'm sorry, I was to meet with Mr. Dema-"

"Mr. Cobblepot, I presume? A pleasure to meet you. I am very sorry, Mr. Demacy left for some... vacations. I will be replacing him from now on."

They were dangerous. He knew it as soon as the man started speaking. Well, he was dangerous too, and he wasn't going to be scared by smiles. He shook the man's hand when he gave it to him, not letting go of it, keeping it far too long to Oswald's opinion.

"The name's Galavan. Theo Galavan. And the delightful creature at my side is my sister, Tabitha Galavan."

He finally let go of his hand so he could shake his sister's. Her grip was deadly.

"I was so eager to meet you, Mr. Cobblepot."

He smiled back, not letting any emotion show. He knew this game well. Probably, and hopefully, better than them. She went back next to her brother and let him do the talk.

"I will not lie to you, my Dear. We are both new to this nobility game the city is playing. We are in need of someone way more skilled than us. That's why we decided to contact you."

Oswald let out a humble laugh.

"As I am flattered, this game isn't really about... teaming up."

They both laughed back, and they all could feel the tension growing.

"Of course. To an outsider's eyes, we won't be a team, indeed. We would just like you to.. Do some errands for us."

The tall man came back in, giving him a small paper before leaving again, making Oswald wonder if he was just standing near the door. And he probably was, now that he thought of it. To prevent him from escaping. He opened a paper to see a list of names.

"I'm... not sure I am following."

"We know what you do in the shadows, Mr Cobblepot. We would greatly appreciate if you would put these people into your... contacts."

Oswald swallowed hard.

"Again.. I'm not sure I am following. I am no assassin. You must have mistaken me for someone else."

"Is that what would poor Gertrude would think, if we were to ask her about you?"

He stopped as he was ready to leave, turning around to stare at Tabitha who had the scariest smile he'd ever seen. He had to stop himself from getting angry, smiling back.

"What a dirty thing to speak of family like this."

"Would it be dirtier if she were to suffer on your behalf?"

He swallowed again, this time hardly hiding it. His heart started racing and his grip tightened on his umbrella,  and he bowed slowly.

"I will make sure to think of your offer."

Since then, Oswald has been following Galavan's list to the letter. He had to send Nygma back to his place, not willing for him to get caught in this madness. Every night he would come back, relieved to see his dear mother still here. Locking everything every time he would leave, warning Victoria to let absolutely no one inside. Thankfully, she was used to his crazy requests and did not question it. Gertrude was trusting him enough to believe him when he told her about the danger rising recently in Gotham, which was the case.

It wasn't hard to link the names on Galavan's list and the recent events in Gotham. Fish was nowhere to be found, a new leader was to be chosen, and with the death of his recent opponents, it was only a matter of time before he would be the new King. Everyone trusted him, the police too, and Oswald saw himself alone in this silent war.

"Your last murders have been quite odd, my friend."

Maybe not that alone. He turned around to see Nygma smiling at him. He was sitting at a cafe, waiting for the night to fall and his next victim to go home. He forced a smile and let him sit down in front of him, sipping on his tea.

"And what makes you say that, Mr Nygma?"

His friend leaned in, making sure only the two of them could hear, and Oswald realised he wasn't bothered by their lack of personal space anymore.

"As much as I enjoy your way to kill, this has no purpose. These deaths bring you nothing... I must say, I'm confused..."

Oswald swallowed, hoping he didn't notice. The police wasn't linking the murders, neither to him nor Galavan, which was ridiculous, as they were completely in his favors. But people wanted to believe in the hope he brought, and he couldn't stop them. He didn't answer, just sipped another bit of his tea, his eyes going for his next target leaving work.

"I'm afraid I'll have to go-"

"My friend. I will never judge you. But please, keep doing what you really want to do."

He felt the hand caress his before leaving, nodding slightly while following the man he targeted, Nygma's words tumbling into him. All of this, all of his work, reduced to serve a man stealing his crown he was working so hard to get, and probably will never obtain if Galavan gets it first.. He could protect his mother. He was strong enough. Galavan had the people of the city, they wouldn't kill innocents for his. The police wouldn't either. He stopped in his track. He could still do something.

He looked at his target getting away with a racing heart and a heavy breath. He will not be manipulated. He will not be defeated.

\- -  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - - - - - - - - - -  -

When Bruce received an invitation by the Court's Counselor for his ball, he could barely believe it. He knew the man was all but trustworthy and the people invited there would most likely only come in the hopes to stab each others, or at least smile before doing so. He would usually discard it, especially when he didn't even have Selina to accompany him, but Alfred stopped him.

"All of the greatest and wealthiest Gotham City has to offer will be there, Master Bruce. Even some of your father's company representatives. It is a gift you cannot refuse."

Alfred meant it would be rude, but Bruce heard it would be the perfect opportunity to get more information about his parents or the company's business. He knew something dark was going on, but obviously couldn't access any of it yet. If he had to get them in his pockets to get what he wanted, he will not hesitate. Plus, he's been working on his charm lately. Turns out his new powers could be handy. He put the invitation on his desk and left for the bathroom, Alfred getting his outfit ready. He knew his master would go for black anyway.

As he went to his carriage, the door slammed behind him.

"Are you not coming, Alfred?"

"I'm afraid that invitation is for you only, Master Bruce. But I'll be waiting for your return."

The horse started walking and he sighed as he leaned back on his seat, closing the curtains; the sun was just setting. He rarely went to balls alone, and mostly the less dangerous ones. After all, even if he was undead, he was still wondering how much he could take before breaking. He would usually have Selina to his side, blinding people with their relationship, people will always be more attracted to gossip than human beings. Hopefully, Selina's absence might make them gossip even more.

He wasn't regretting what he said, still standing on his grounds; they killed a man that night. They had no idea who he was, they didn't even talk to him before he fell. He killed so many but this time was different. He wished he could've done something. And yet, he couldn't help but regretting getting angry, scolding her. She did what she thought was right, and he would be mad too, to be yelled at something he did, guided by his thoughts, his convictions. He wished he could find her and apologize properly, but he made a promise to never use his powers on her, unless she was in danger. He will not track her down. She will reappear when she'll want to. Bruce just hoped it wasn't going to take too long.

They arrived in front of the palace and he waited for the sun to be completely gone. He could've covered himself, shielded from it, and go inside. But that would've gotten too much attention from it. As he walked into the palace, his name was announced, and the stares started. He didn't mind, he knew how important he was, he just wished people would be a bit more discreet about it. After just a step down the marble stairs, someone started talking to him and it didn't stop until after an hour. Sadly, Alfred must have been lied to, since he didn't see nor meet any of his company's representatives. He sighed, turning around as soon as he heard a voice asking his name.

A man, black hair, pale skin. He was ready to hear whatever he had to say or ask him when he saw him stop in his track. Their eyes met and he had to stop a gasp escaping his mouth. His, icy blue, Bruce's, black as a funeral. They stayed silent for a minute and he got his composure back, hoping no one just saw that, for a second, they recognized each other.

He shook his hand, lost in thoughts. He did hear the name, Oswald Cobblepot. His brain did not take long to realise what was happening. A man now high enough in society to be in such an event, was running in the dark streets of Gotham, surely pursued by an assassin. He was playing this dangerous game they were all trying to win, a game he didn't have to play and was thankful for it. His thoughts went back to the assassin they pushed off the roof, jumping as he was asked about the ball.

"Yes! A charming event. I was invited by someone, yet I cannot find them. I hope you are enjoying it too, Mr. Cobblepot."

He did receive the invitation from a certain Galavan. He never heard of the name before but it was said he just arrived and was already jumping through Gotham's nobility, aiming to be the new King. Loved by the people, protected by the police, targeted by the criminals, he was the perfect Hero this city wanted, and probably deserved. Bruce wondered what such a man would want from him and yet he seemed to be waiting in vain. He wished a good evening to Mr. Cobblepot as he was leaving him, glad this won't be getting more awkward.

The night went by and when eleven rang, an old butler came to him with a message, inviting him to leave the room and join his mysterious host in a more "private" setting. He walked to the long corridor behind the main room, guessing he had to go through the main door at the other end. He opened the door and noticed it was only leading outside, as he was going to close it, an arm grabbed his, pinning him against the wall.

"The Waynes will Die."

A low growl he couldn't even understand, and before he could react he felt metal piercing his body, slicing his stomach before getting out, the man running away. He fell on the ground, feeling his body fighting the wound already, but lacking the power to heal it. Blood spilled out of his mouth as he coughed it out, crawling on the ground, hoping to get to a carriage unseen. He could feel his whole body shake, guessing it was already at his limit, losing way too much blood, even if he couldn't die from it. The pain was already gone, but he was so weak, wishing he could gather more strength.

A voice, steps, he stayed still on the ground.

"Dear lord... that's a lot of blood.."

Hands on his body, he was lifted up, sat against the whole, his breath coming back as his lungs were struggling to get the blood out, he coughed again, barely seeing the person in front of him.

"My my... How are you still alive?"

Red. He saw red first. Red hair. Then pale skin. Dark eyes, maybe grey? He couldn't tell, he could only feel the hand on his neck, checking for a pulse, and before it could leave him, he grabbed whoever was in front of him, bringing them close enough before biting their neck. A yell escaped them and he covered it with his hand, drinking greedily, feeling his strength coming back stronger than ever. He entwined his legs with them, forcing them to fall against him, trapping them completely as he wasn't living their wounds, sucking as much as he could. He could feel the grip against him weakening before letting him go completely. It felt good, it felt right.

He was stopped by a hit on his head.

"Stop!! You're going to kill him!!"

The voice made him look back up instantly, staring at his friend's eyes.

"... Selina..?"

He was out of breath, still holding the body strongly against his, not quite believing what was going on.

"Is he still alive?"

He checked hurriedly, hoping he was. The breath was faint, he was just passed out. Bruce nodded.

"Are you healing?"

A second nod.

"Then let's go! We don't want to be found here, there's blood everywhere! Come on."

She grabbed him to lift him up, and he took the man in his arms as much as he could; he was way taller than him. They ran as fast as they could to Bruce's carriage, jumping into it as they heard people started to yell in the alley they left. He took a deep breath when the horses started leaving.

He sighed and looked at her, but she was more worried about the man in his arms. He put him on the seat in front of them. He was tall but clearly not far from their age, maybe two years older. The bite on his neck was still visible and Bruce hurried to bandage it, glad it was already healing thanks to some of his blood. He was wearing a dark red outfit, golden embroidery on it, and Bruce wondered how he didn't see him at the event, before bringing his eyes back to Selina.

"Why were y-"

"I knew you wouldn't survive two minutes without me."

She took out a tissue and started to wipe his face again. He laughed, not even needing to apologize anymore, as they already did with their eyes only. He looked back at the man, wondering how they will explain that to Alfred now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, Oz didn't do the origami but when this was written we didn't know yet alright, aha  
> Also, I re-read this and realise there is a lot of blood.. damn. I need to chill.


	3. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald decides to stop following Galavan's orders and prepares for his retaliation. Meanwhile, Bruce finally introduces himself to the man he bit, learning some new informations that will be crucial to the discovery of his parent's murder and his bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Hello!  
> I'm sorry again for the big delay, school and work are currently assassinating me. And I got a cold. Please end my life aha. Thanks to cobblestyles who went through the suffering for me and beta-read this!  
> Also, don't hate me for this.  
> I love you.  
> Thank you for the support!

Leaving Galavan behind was easy enough, just walking away from his target and go back to his home, locking the door. What Oswald did not realise was how hard it would be to protect it once he started. He counted on Galavan's lack of informations, hoping the man would let him have a lead of 1 or 2 days before realising he abandoned him. He used these 2 days very well, locking doors, reinforcing the security, making sure his mother was secured and safe. But when a week went by and he didn't have to fend off at least one opponent, the fear started creeping into him. That man was good at this game, ready to strike when he would least suspect it. Stuck at his place, he couldn't get back to his social ascension, couldn't even try to stop the man. He sent messages to Jim Gordon, hoping to get support, alas, the man never came. Maybe he did not take his invitation curiously, or Galavan was watching him more closely than he thought. Sadly, he knew it was the latter.

The man found other ways to get to the top, acting as a hero in front of a gullible crowd. Well, that's what he would think but Oswald knew Gotham's citizens weren't that stupid. But between a fake hero that could climb his way up that easily and others dying, the choice was easy. When he started to get closer to the queen, and even closer to Don Falcone, Oswald knew he had to do something. If that man succeeded, he would never be able to come back, forced to live secluded in this manor forever, with the doors and windows locked. The simple thought made him sick.

It was raining that day, he took all the documents he had on Galavan, every letters with contracts on them, every seal he could find. He made sure his mother was secured in a secret room only them knew about, asking her to trust him, to not ask, and she did just so. It had been difficult to explain his behaviour to her, telling her about Galavan that she wanted to trust too, at first. He didn't really lie to her, telling her they were in danger because he would eliminate anyone on his path, and they were just another obstacle. He left the manor after making sure the door would hold against anything, leaving it with a sigh, hoping to come back and find it still closed.

He groaned as he was refused entry to the police department, people telling him he was no longer welcomed, as he was getting suspicious. Of course, he had been reckless with his last murders and it was only a matter of time before they suspected him, even with Nygma doing his best to hide it. He couldn't hide the witnesses seeing him with the victims before their death. He protested before seeing him, the only person he could trust, coming out of the building. A simple gesture with his hand and he knew they were to meet somewhere else. He went back to his carriage, driving only two alleys away before seeing his friend's shadow. He hurriedly joined him inside.

"My friend... I am in a dear need of your help."

Nygma put his hand on his arm.

"You shouldn't be here, they're getting more and more suspicious, there's probably a patrol coming for you right now."

Despite the silence, despite the coldness between the two of them for the past few days, he was still trying to protect him, still trying to help. Oswald was a bit taken aback by it, before getting the papers out of his coat.

"Then I must hurry. Please, take these to Gordon, or your boss, whoever willing to read these and believe them. The Queen is in danger, even the Counsellor, and with them, the King."

Nygma took the letters to look at them, reading the names.

"These would only be further proofs of your implication in the murders!"

"But they will stop him."

He tightened his hand against Nygma's arm.

"I'd pay any price if it means this man can be arrested."

They both knew what it would imply, they both knew what will happen, but they also wanted to see a stop to this madness. If Oswald had to end up in prison, but his mother was safe, then it was worth it. He won't stay there forever anyway. He pressed the letters against his friend's chest, hoping to make him hurry, before noticing the look he wore. Staring at him with worry and care, he felt the hand slowly slide on his cheek before he left the carriage, running in the alley to avoid the rain, getting straight back to the police department. Oswald sighed and asked to hurry home.

The door was still closed when he came back, nothing out of the ordinary until he saw the secret room wide open. He ran to check it and started panicking. His mother wasn't there.

How was it possible? How did they get in without breaking the door? Unless she opened to them.. And he realised it was a possibility. The rain was heavy outside, his mother would've taken pity of those poor souls banging at their doors. He started yelling for her, hoping for an answer and as soon as he heard a sound in the kitchen, he ran down the stairs. His leg was hurting but he didn't mind, he was just hoping..

"Mother!!"

"Oh I'm sorry, my sweet angel, but I was so thirsty.."

There she was, making some tea, next to Victoria, the girl had a gun at her belt now, offered by Oswald. When he told her Gertrude was in danger, she did not think twice before asking how she could protect her. Oswald always thought of her as just some orphan found by his mother in the street, ready to run as soon as danger showed itself, but she was still here, willing to die for her. He smiled, stopping his body from shaking, sighing in relief.

"It's fine. I'm glad to see you are both safe."

They had dinner that night, but Oswald hasn't been eating anything for the past few days.

One morning, he was alerted by a commotion downstairs. He has been barely sleeping lately, scolding himself when he did so. He took his umbrella and slowly got to the stairs, ready to attack anyone daring to come in, surprised the door hasn't been loud enough. The smell of blood got him faster to the hallway, only to find Victoria on the ground, deeply wounded. She winced as he took her in his arms. A bullet to the shoulder, her yellow dress getting tainted by the red spreading, she tried to push him away.

"Mr. Cobblepot, I'm so sorry.."

He looked at her in confusion.

"Your mother... She has been meeting with someone.. She didn't want you to know about him.. I tried to tell her it was a bad idea to meet him but she.. she insisted. I tried to protect her.. I.."

He stopped her, a hand sliding into her curly black locks, kissing her forehead. His whole body was shaking. He knew this would come, he knew something was going to go wrong, but he had yet to realise it was happening right now. His voice was shaking.

"Where did she g-"

"You need to run, Oswald! They're coming for-"

The door slammed open and he tightened his hold on her, the police coming inside and surrounding them, Officer Gordon leading with his partner Harvey Bullock.

"Mr. Cobblepot, I'm afraid I need you to follow us."

"I'm going nowhere without someone taking care of her."

The man sighed and lowered his voice.

"Oswald please, do not make th-"

He took the gun at Victoria's waist, threatening him to shoot, hearing swords getting drawn behind him.

"You brought doctors here in case I resist, I know this. You bring them here, NOW!"

Victoria could only smile, her hand tightening on his. With a hand gesture, Jim ordered the others to put their swords down, and with his head, asked for the medics to come in. They were hesitant but ran to her as soon as Oswald put the gun down. He let her go and shared a last gaze, deep into her dark eyes, she was thanking him with them. He got up as they left, ignoring the blood tainting his black vest and white shirt, spreading on his pale skin, he stared at Gordon.

"I hope you know what you're doing, old friend."

The man didn't say anything but stopped his colleague from handling him, taking his arm himself to get him to the carriage waiting for him. He ignored the man yelling orders to him, walking into the carriage with Oswald and closing the door, knocking to signal their departure.

"... You're not going to restrain me?"

"You're not going to try to escape."

He silently agreed. He wasn't foolish enough to try and leave, until his brain made him realise.

"Jim.. My mother!"

Jim leaned and put his hand on his.

"Don't worry. We heard your help, we already have people looking for her."

He couldn't find words to thank him, so he tightened his hand on his, not leaving his eyes. He couldn't believe that this man was still staying at his side, caring almost. He had the worst way to show it, but despite everything, he would still not wish any ill to Gotham's citizens, and maybe, just maybe, he saw the letters he gave to Nygma. Oswald didn't know who could've seen them, but seeing how he was taken away by the police right now, he guessed someone finally read them. Probably the chief. They arrived in a city and turned in an alley, alerting Gordon right away.

"Don't move."

He got up and opened the door, asking something to their driver, Oswald unable to hear what it was before he sat back down.

"Wh... What's going on?"

"We're making a detour, the road is blocked."

Oswald could guess he was getting suspicious.

"If this is one of your tricks, Cobblepot.."

"I-I swear, it isn't! I thought you were taking me after seeing the letters!"

"Letters?"

The carriage stopped, they could hear voices outside, cheering. Oswald swallowed hard, his hands gripping his knees.

A man opened the door abruptly and took Oswald out, he looked around, wondering where they were, as he hasn't been in this part of Gotham in a long time. They were at the top of a road, the path going down a long slope before a large plaza, a crowd starting to gather on it as the church's bell was ringing midday. Oswald gave a confused, even scared, look at Jim who got out of the carriage.

"What the hell is going on?!"

He was getting angry, and everyone knew that making Jim Gordon angry was both easy and dangerous. Oswald was just trying to see if he could escape as soon as possible, only to see the Galavans standing in front of them, surrounded by henchmen.

"Ah. Finally, our main celebrity has arrived."

Oswald tried to go near Jim as soon as he could but the man was pushed away by the henchmen, surrounding him. Galavan looked at the people down the slope, looking back at Oswald.

"My dear, I am deeply, strongly sorry, that we had to come to this. But you see, you are dangerous. Made some bad decisions... And bad decisions lead to punishment."

The crowd started cheering and Oswald had to take another look. There, on the wooden stage, a man and a woman were standing, both standing proud and still, despite the fear in their eyes.

"Mother?"

He took a step and was stopped by the noise of guns clicking behind him as Galavan rose his arms. Henchmen ready for a signal.

"Now now, stay still, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself."

He could see the cords being prepared on the wooden stage, people swearing and spitting, he tried to contain the shakes of his body, looking at the man next to his mother. Looking at him better, he could see a clear resemblance, the nose and the eyes, the posture. He finally realised who he was looking at.

"Poor little Penguin thought he could stop us, but couldn't stop love."

He painfully closed his eyes as he heard the sister's voice, swallowing slowly.

"Surely we can have some kind of arrangement."

"Oh.. No... I'm afraid nothing can save these poor souls now."

"Mr Galavan!"

Jim's voice resonated around them as he pushed away one of the henchmen, strongly enough so he tumbled on the ground, ignoring the guns pointing at him.

"As much as I respect you, sir, this is going too far! You cannot bring these innocent people into-"

"Oh, but I'm afraid they are far from innocent, officer Gordon."

The dark gaze Oswald gave was daring the man to even try to insult his mother.

"They have both committed adultery-"

"That's not even a crime in this city."

Oswald's tone was venomous, Jim crossed his arms, waiting for more because it clearly wasn't enough for him too. Galavan feigned innocence.

"Oh? Weren't you told? Since I said so, it is. They also have committed various crimes tha-"

"Where are the proofs?"

Jim took a step closer, speaking before Oswald could.

"I didn't want to share it with you. Seeing as... involved... you are in this, officer."

"You will not get away with this!"

"Hm.. Have you seen any of your colleagues here? How strange..."

This was all planned, all ready, all surreal. And the crowd started cheering as they were making Oswald's parents step further, the rope being tightened at their neck. Oswald saw his mother whispering him not to worry. He started running.

A first shot hit his shoulder, the crowd cheering too loudly to hear it. He fell on his knees but got back as soon as he could, running again, not leaving his mother's and father's eyes. They were both proud, maybe worried, before looking at each other with a love that never faded.

Another shot against his legs and he was on the ground again, whimpering as he struggled to get back up, hearing the voice behind him.

"Oswald! I beg of you! Stay down!"

He could hear Gordon fighting henchmen behind him, trying to stop this madness. But he refused to stay as the crowd cheered more. He looked at them holding hands, staring at each other, whispering last words before the church's bell rang, and the wooden support was taken off, the rope breaking their necks. Oswald yelled, getting up, a shot in his back putting him down again. He started crawling, tears blurring his view, blood spreading under himself. He felt a gun against the back of his head.

"Fly. Little bird."

But before it was pulled, a carriage drove at full speed, making the henchmen run away before being crushed, the door opened and Oswald felt a tight grip around him, he tried to fight it, his hand gripping on the door's frame, yelling he had to help, screaming his mother's name, before getting pulled in the carriage completely, leaving as fast as it came. He cried, he yelled, until he didn't have enough strength anymore, barely seeing the masked face holding him. He could feel a gloved hand in his hair, petting him gently, a voice trying to calm him down, he couldn't get the words right. He raised a hand and pulled off the scarf hiding their face, revealing Nygma, worried sick, holding him.

He closed his eyes, falling under his whispers, hoping all of this would just be a terrible nightmare.

When he woke up, he couldn't recognize the room he was in. A huge dark bedroom, surrounded by byzantium and dark purple walls, the wood of the bed was a dark shade of brown, almost black, the curtains closed. Strangely, he didn't feel any pain in his body, until he remembered the shots. He looked down to see he was wearing a long ivory gown, opening it slightly to discover the tight bandages around his chest and shoulder. As he moved his leg, he could guess it was bandaged as well. He wondered how he could've survived, but remembered his friend was a doctor.

As he realised what happened, he got out of bed as fast as he could, his body not allowing him to stand. He fell directly to the ground in a loud thud, groaning as he grabbed his leg. He couldn't feel the pain but he now knew how weak he was. Still, he tried to crawl to the door before it got opened.

"Mr. Cobblepot!"

He felt the soft fabric against his skin, lifting him off the ground before being settled into bed again, he could see his friend's face, grabbing his robe, eyes begging.

"I-I need to go back to-"

"Shhh. It is finished."

He stopped at his words, looking at him with lost eyes. His friend’s sadness showing in his.

"I am sorry, my friend."

He let his body fall down against the pillows, processing what was happening. And the pain in his heart grew stronger, too heavy, too fast, he could barely breathe as the tears started pouring out of his eyes, his fingers whitening as he grabbed the blankets. His friend did not dare to touch him, knowing he would be rejected.

"Why did you take me away?"

The voice was sharp, menacing, full of blame. Anger.

"It was too late. You were running to corpses. And you were going to become one."

"I don't care!"

The yell was strong enough to make Nygma take a step back, strangely aware of personal space this time.

"My friend.. I know this is hard, but once you get better, you'll have more allies against Gala-"

"Why would I go after him?"

That took him by surprise, he couldn't understand.

"I'm... I'm sorry?"

"What's the point? I was going to do so much... just for her.. I was going to make her proud, make her happy... I don't... I don't even have a fath-"

He stopped, tears flowing out of his eyes, voice cracking. Nygma realised and got closer, sitting on the bed, next to him, near him.

"No no no... my poor... poor feathered friend..."

He felt his hand in his hair again, and let him be. It took some time before he calmed down, hating that he would let him see him in such a state.

"This isn't a bad thing."

Now he could only feel a cold blade of betrayal slicing his heart, looking back at him.

"I know, how upsetting it is. But look at it from this angle. You are free. You have no more attach to this world. No one can hurt you again."

"Wh.. What are you saying?"

He was getting angry, and Nygma could see it. He brought his hand to his face, putting his forehead on his, keeping it intimate. He whispered, as calm as possible.

"You may suffer now. I know it is hard. But think of after. You will come back and no one will be able to touch you. No attach, no pain, nothing to stop you. You will get stronger than ever."

He could see him fall silent, calming down.

"For now, you grieve. And after that, you will be free. Like me."

He looked back at him, their noses almost touching as he did so, his shaky breath melting with his steady one. He hated how right he was. He could at least avenge his parents by killing Galavan, he could do so much since he had no weakness. He winced as he felt the pain come back at his chest, falling on the pillows.

Maybe he did still have weaknesses.

"Oh, the medicine is fading, I'll be right back!"

He looked at him leave as he felt the pain hitting him back stronger than ever, he could barely breathe and wondered how he did not realise his injuries were that bad. He almost didn't hear Nygma coming back in the room, holding his nape as he poured a thick liquid down his throat. He winced at the taste, but could feel the pain calm down instantly.

He took time to get his breath back before looking at his friend.

"Wh-what is this?"

He saw Nygma hesitate, the man seemed like he had to say something he really didn't want to, but not having any other choices than tell the truth.

"It's my blood."

Oswald took a horrified expression, coughing a bit as he realised what he just heard, putting a hand at his throat. How? How could blood do that? For all he knew, even touching someone else’s blood was bound to bring diseases. He looked as Nygma got up from the bed, standing in front of him, a bit nervous, even if he tried to hide it.

"I'm afraid I haven't been frank with you, my friend."

He sat a bit better on the bed, straightening his back to look at him.

"I am no longer human. Some... times ago, I contracted vampirism."

He couldn't stop his scoff.

"You're... a vampire?"

He couldn't believe it in the least. He saw enough of Gotham to know how crazy the world could be, but surely it wouldn't bring them undead creatures.

"I see that you're not believing me, and yet you drank my blood and you're not suffering anymore."

That stopped his smile. He nodded slowly, refusing to believe such a tale, but nothing could prove him otherwise. His friend was back at his side.

"I do not have to prove it to you, I am only asking for your trust."

He took his hand in his, and Oswald could feel how cold they were without his gloves.

"You're dying. Normally, my blood can heal wounds but I arrived too late, and you are too injured. I can only stop the pain until you will be gone. I have decided to give you a choice I never had."

He lifted his hand, a kiss against his wrist.

"Would you accept my gift, and become one of the undead? Or would you rather leave this world?"

And frankly, after that speech he gave him, he hoped he would choose the latter. He kissed his wrist again, watching as the red crept on his cheeks, maybe for the last time.

"I... I would.. like to think about-"

"We don't have the time."

Oswald winced, uncomfortable. His emotions were burning inside him, too many informations to take, too many decisions to make, too many emotions. His breath was shaking again and he whispered.

"Will I fear the sun?"

"No. You will be powerful enough not to. As long as you don't bask in it."

"What will be my weaknesses then?"

"The thirst for blood, mostly."

He seemed to consider his options in silence, even though he was willing to do anything to avoid death, to get his revenge.

"Will I be powerful?"

"Very."

Oswald got closer to him, pushing away the gown fabric from his neck before opening his arms.

"I will join, gladly."

He could feel Nygma's relief, see it through his eyes, the man taking him into his arms. He covered his neck in light kisses, trying to reassure him, relax him. His fingers were tightening against the robe's fabric, not expecting such kindness. He was laid against the pillows, hands massaging his chest, before embracing him. He could feel the pain coming back, whining as it did so. He tensed against Nygma's body, shivering as he felt a light suck on his neck's skin. He begged as tears were threatening his eyes.

"Now, Edward..."

As he felt the bite piercing his skin, a small yelp escaped his lips, before being taken away by a low sigh, relieved, he closed his eyes.

Finally, he could rest.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Master Bruce, I beg you to reconsider-"

"We will not throw him in the streets, Alfred."

They've been arguing all morning since Alfred woke up. Last night, he didn't complain when he saw Bruce and Selina coming home with a body in their arms. He didn't refuse to give him a bed and clean clothes. He didn't reprimand his master when he heard that the boy has seen him, as his true nature, and was still alive. But keeping the boy here until he wakes up was asking too much of him.

"He got back in shape, he is healthy, there is no need to keep him. I think it is dangerous to let him remember what happened last night."

"He saved my life, I am not going to reward this by throwing him in the streets."

"He might not even know he saved your sorry a-"

"I said no, Alfred."

The man groaned, straightening up, looking at Selina who's been eating her toast the whole time, watching as if she was at the theatre.

"Well then. I hope you know what you're doing, Master Bruce."

And with that, he was off to the kitchen. Bruce sighed as he left before being joined by Selina, crossing her arms.

"You know he's right? If he knows about you, it could be dangerous."

"What could he do? Run around the streets, yelling 'Oh no, Bruce Wayne is a vampire'. Who would listen to that?"

She shrugged, sighing a bit.

"Well. I'm going back to bed. Saving your face is exhausting."

He laughed and waved her goodbye as she was going upstairs. He shyly went into the kitchen to discover a breakfast tray already made by Alfred, sighing, knowing the man probably put all his anger into it. He took it upstairs, opening the bedroom's door as gently as possible.

The boy from last night was still asleep, wearing a white shirt with a red robe. Bruce could finally take some time to look at his face, realising how young he was. They were probably the same age, maybe he was a bit older? Yet he was way taller than him, which could irritate him. Red hair was pretty uncommon in this city, making him rather unique. The only other redhead Bruce knew was Selina's friend, and they haven't seen her in a long while. He noticed a strand of hair getting on the boy's face and went to put it back, jumping as the boy's eyes opened as he did so. He took a step back to sit on the chair next to the bed.

"... H.. Hey."

He didn't really know what to say, wondering what he remembered, what he could feel right now. He let him straighten up, sitting on the bed, looking around. He tried to put him in one of the most welcoming room, with red walls and golden wood. The bed was a bit big, but judging by the outfit he was wearing when he found him, he guessed he wasn't going to be too intimidated by luxury. Yet, it seemed as if glitter went through his eyes before he got back to his.

"I'm sure you have questions. Last night, I found you behind Don Falcone's palace. You fainted on the-"

"Don't lie to me, little blood sucker."

He saw the cocky smile and heard the joking voice, kind of falling for it. So he did remember what happened and yet he wasn't freaking out or treating him badly for it. He thought anyone would. He bowed slowly, refusing to get back up until he properly apologized.

"I am very sorry for what I've done to you. Yesterday I was hurt and couldn't control myself. As soon as I saw you I-"

He felt a hand on his chin, bringing his head back up, a thumb staying on his lips. The boy was leaning on the edge of the bed, dangerously close.

"No worries. I don't blame you."

Bruce was a bit taken aback. How come he couldn't at least be a bit offended? Or threatened even? After all, an undead creature almost killed him last night. Was he already aware of the existence of vampires? Did he know others?

The thumb slid on his lips and brought him back to his eyes.

"So... The pretty Bruce Wayne is a vampire, huh?"

Of course. Of course, the boy knew who he was. He nodded, looking at the hand retreating from his face, glad he couldn't blush at the compliment too.

"May I know your name?"

The boy sat, cross-legged on the bed, his smile getting wider, almost threatening.

"I'm Jerome Valeska. But why do you care? You're just going to kill me aren't you?"

Bruce frowned.

"What? No!"

And now it was Jerome's turn to frown.

"...? You're not? Am I not a danger to you or something?"

"... You are, but... who would believe you anyway?"

The boy rolled his eyes and he fell on the bed, arms spread.

"And here I was, thinking I was going to fight the legendary Bruce Wayne... What a let down.."

Bruce didn't stop a laugh at this, what a strange guy... And apparently his laugh made him get back up instantly, staring at his smile.

"So what are your plans with me, Brucie boy?"

Bruce was a bit taken aback, he didn't really think about it but he was grateful to him, he had to offer him something in return for his help.

"I... uh.. I was thinking maybe you could.. stay here?"

He completely just made that up but apparently it worked, despite Jerome's surprise.

"I owe you my life, it is only fair that I offer you hospitality at least until you do not wish it anymore."

Jerome seems to ponder about it, making Bruce wonder what the boy had in mind at first, before he got back to him.

"Alright. I'll settle with that. For now."

Bruce wasn't sure what that meant but was glad he accepted to stay, unaware of who was the real danger in this room.

Jerome's addition to the house was the worst that could've happened to Alfred. Thankfully, Selina was too suspicious of him, so she would stay as far away as possible and be quieter than usual. Even though she kept stealing some things to put them back in impossible places for him to reach. But Jerome...

Jerome was a whole new type of Hell. The boy would listen only to Bruce and, sadly for him, his master would find him too funny to stop his shenanigans. His jokes would go from saying a different name to call him every single time to threaten their guests from Wayne's company. Now, the latter has been useful enough, since it helped his young master to get closer to the truth, but Alfred wondered if he realised his little friend was the reason for it. He could smell the lies and the danger coming off this boy but yet couldn't convince his master to see it.

And he couldn't blame him, as Jerome would suddenly turn into a kind and caring person as soon as Bruce entered the room. The worst part being he had no idea if it was on purpose or not.

Bruce liked having Jerome here, wondering why Selina would be so against his stay. Sometimes she would stay with them and they would research together, or just talk near the fireplace, and others she would ask him to stay 2 metres away. But he never really understood Selina's behaviour anyway.

Jerome was really well-informed about the city's people, knowing even some personal informations that they wouldn't publicly share, making Bruce wonder if he was always putting an act or was just really good at making people trust him. More than once, the boy would go and embarrass him, loving when the red crept on his cheek. And when Bruce and Selina left for blood hunting, he would always ask to come and not insist when refused. It made him wonder who had a real thirst for blood here. He wasn't blind. He could see the boy was hiding something, but it wasn't as if he could do anything anyway, so he let it slide. It wasn't as if he was the only one doing so.

One day, the door slammed open, alerting Bruce and Selina while they were looking into some new documents, discovering a bloodied Jerome.

"I think I got some good news."

Bruce ran to him.

"Jerome, are you ok?"

"Yeah it's not my-"

He stopped to look at his arms, bleeding from a deep cut.

"Well, it might be my blood, but that's not the most-"

His legs gave up on him, making his body fall loudly on the ground. Bruce ran to get the first-aid kit while Selina put a pillow under his head. After they patched him up, he waited until he finally could sit down.

"So. I think I know where you can get more information about the guy who bit you."

Selina squinted, getting suspicious again.

"... How the hell could you possibly get that kind of info?"

Bruce wanted to stop her, and yet he was curious too. He knew Jerome had a way with people, but that was too helping to be true.

"I met with an old friend. He used work for Wayne's company. Sadly, I had to fight him for this."

He shrugged.

"I won."

Bruce wanted to scold him for that, wondering if the man was still alive or not, but somehow he doubted it. He would have to tell him not to do that again later, unaware of the bodies Jerome left behind before meeting him. He helped the boy up so he could sit on the sofa, taking one of the cups of tea on the table there, Bruce and Selina waiting for his reply.

"Turns out.. You're not the only vampire in this city, my little bat."

Bruce blinked, surprised by both the information and the nickname. He looked back at Selina who seemed as surprised as him.

"And guess what... They all know each other. They probably even know about you! And they will meet at a grand ball, next week."

"But.. I'm not invited.."

"That's the thing, you don't need an invitation, if you're one of them, you can just enter. Which means..."

"The man who bit me is going to be there..."

Jerome grinned widly, sat cross-legged on the sofa now, before adding.

"And the place it is held is owned by someone who used to dwell in Wayne's Company before... So there could be some precious informations we could get there. While you make contact.."

"... Me and Jerome will get the papers."

Bruce looked back at Selina who was smiling widely at Jerome. Both already agreeing and loving the danger that it meant.

"No."

Bruce got up, taking a step back.

"No. There is no way I am letting you two involved in this."

"Didn't stop you before."

Selina's cocky smiled pleased Jerome all the more.

"Before, we were fighting humans. This is not the same. This is not someone you can... push off a roof or... Do... Whatever you do."

They both shrugged, showing they really didn't mind, shivering in anticipation already.

"I said no. I will go alone."

Selina sighed, getting up.

"Fine. But we'll have to train you before you go anywhere. You're terrible at sneaking around."

Jerome joined, his arms crossed.

"And we'll have to work on those social skills of yours... clearly, not your best fit."

Bruce sighed, this was going to be a very long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for this, I beg of you ah.  
> Also, my tumblr is pengy-boy, if you want to follow me there.  
> Thank you again for the support and comments and kudos, you are all lovely and I sends all of the hugs!


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